


Five Ways to Get In Touch with Your Inner Mild-Mannered Scientist

by thingswithwings



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: F/M, Gen, Kittens, Lab Bromance, M/M, Multi, Orgy, Science, Science Bros, Team!, naps, puppy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-06-09
Updated: 2012-06-09
Packaged: 2017-11-07 09:58:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,326
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/429749
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thingswithwings/pseuds/thingswithwings
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>sleep, smash, sparring, science, sex.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Five Ways to Get In Touch with Your Inner Mild-Mannered Scientist

**Author's Note:**

  * Translation into Polski available: [Pięć sposobów by skontaktować się z twoim wewnętrznym łagodnym naukowcem](https://archiveofourown.org/works/10382400) by [Lampira7](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lampira7/pseuds/Lampira7)



**1\. sleep**

The Hulk really isn't such a bad guy once you get to know him, and, more importantly, once he gets to know you. As the weeks go by the Avengers keep assembling, keep saving the city from various bad guys, and a pattern emerges fairly consistently: if given a target, the Hulk can and will go after that target. If given teammates, the Hulk can manage to work with those teammates (and not smash them). Nobody noticed when the military was attempting to solve the problem with larger and larger caliber bullets, but the Hulk has perception, focus.

Clint kind of likes the Hulk, actually. 

Sometimes, though, Bruce will hulk out accidentally, or the battle will be unsatisfying, like that time they thought they had another Ivan Vanko on their hands and it turned out to just be a dude with a car battery ("Irony of ironies," Tony had muttered) and some junk from Radio Shack. On days like that, it suddenly becomes a priority to get the Hulk to de-Hulk himself.

Clint happens to be the only one in Avengers mansion the time Bruce stubs his toe _really hard_ on the coffee table, flushes green, triples in size, and breaks the couch they're sitting on.

"Shit," Clint says, putting down the bag of popcorn he's holding and trying to extricate himself from the wreckage. "Uh. Hi, buddy."

The Hulk twists among what's left of the couch and stares at Clint for a long moment. 

"Remember me? We fight together. Guy with the bow and arrows?" Clint mimes shooting a bow.

"ROBIN," the Hulk says, and Clint is never going to forgive Tony for telling the Hulk that was his name.

"Yeah," Clint sighs. "You okay? Can you try not to wreck the place?"

At this the Hulk stands, shedding stray pieces of demolished furniture, and starts huffing and pacing. It's not very good for the floors.

"NO FIGHT." This is apparently a very bad thing.

"No, sorry, we're all out of cyborgs and mutants and things today." Clint watches as the Hulk's pacing gets faster, as he casually takes out an (apparently non-load-bearing, what a relief) plaster column with his fist, as he starts grunting and growling with increasing frustration and impatience.

"Okay, maybe let's get out of the house," Clint says.

That's how they end up in the mansion's ostentatious backyard, with Clint inventing obstacle courses (mostly using some pretty old trees that were in the ground half an hour ago, but what are you gonna do), running the Hulk through drills, firing arrows for him to leap and snatch out of the air, and, when he runs out of other ideas, having him run in circles as fast as he can for twenty minutes straight. The dude who does the lawn is going to have a coronary, but at least no one is injured and the house is still standing afterwards.

When Natasha and Steve come back home a few hours later, they find Clint sitting on the floor with the Hulk, who's all tucked up in about seven blankets, stroking his hair and singing to him softly. He discovered about half an hour ago that the Hulk is soothed by music – how Looney Toons of him – and has been running through his rusty memories of lullabyes ever since. The Hulk's head is propped up on pillows and resting partially in Clint's lap, which means it's pretty heavy but bearable. Natasha raises an eyebrow, and Clint blushes.

"He's really just like a big kid," he hurries to explain. "Like a toddler. Let him get his energy out and then put him down for a nap and he's fine." 

"That's – adorable?" Steve says, sounding surprised. 

Natasha, who knows a little more about Clint and his feelings about kids, doesn't say anything, but gives him half a smile. Clint is saved from having to say anything more, because the Hulk picks that moment to sigh deeply in his sleep, cuddle a little further against Clint's thigh - _ouch_ \- and shrink down into Bruce again.

"Aw," Natasha says. "He's all tuckered out."

Bruce doesn't wake up, just starts snoring softly against Clint's lap. After a second, Clint goes back to stroking his hair.

 

**2\. smash**

There's the time after a battle when they can't _find_ the Hulk, which is a new special kind of terror; usually the Hulk makes his presence known, and if he's not here, where is he? And what is he doing? The rest of the team fans out across the city to look for him, and it's Natasha who eventually finds him, sitting against a brick wall in an alleyway, poking his giant green finger under a dumpster.

"Uh, Hulk?" she says. She's still not used to calling him that. "Bruce? The fight's over, wanna come for pizza?"

"SHHHHHH," the Hulk rumbles, making more noise than Natasha could make with a scream. As she gets closer, she notices movement under the dumpster.

A moment later the Hulk straightens up, holding a tiny kitten in his enormous palm. 

Natasha, who's not stupid and knows an amazing PR moment when she sees one, gets out her phone and takes a video. Soon the whole litter – seven or eight kittens who can't be more than three weeks old, with no momma cat in sight – is out from under the dumpster and crawling all over the Hulk, licking his fingers, scratching at his arms, butting against his nose looking for milk.

"SOFT," the Hulk comments, and smiles, and a few seconds later Bruce Banner finds himself naked in an alleyway covered in kittens.

"Hello, Agent Romanov," Bruce says, sighing. The great thing about Banner is how he takes everything in stride; Natasha admires that about him, his calm acceptance of events as they unfold. "Could you help me out? I'm actually really – " he sneezes explosively, " – allergic."

The video is an adorable Youtube sensation and such good PR that Director Fury, unsettlingly, almost smiles at Natasha. They donate the cats to a local shelter, but it gives Natasha an idea. 

"Bruce?" she calls as she comes in, ducking her head around the door. "Are you home?"

"In here," Bruce replies, and Natasha walks into the big living room off the front hallway and holds up Bruce's present.

"I, uh, got you something," she says, and suddenly the whole plan seems a little weird. 

Bruce's eyes go wide and he stands up, already holding out his hands. Natasha passes him the little pitbull puppy, who's eight weeks old and basically just a roly-poly squirming bundle of soft fur, all white with a brown eyepatch and ear and one brown sock.

"Oh my god," he says. "She's so cute." Bruce looks kind of overwhelmed, which is understandable.

"I – I was down at the shelter to check on the kittens," she says, which is a lie, "and I saw her, and I thought, you know. Maybe you – and the Hulk – would like a dog. She could calm you down when you're feeling green, you know, animal therapy."

"I used to have a dog in Brazil," Bruce says, not taking his eyes off of the puppy. She's already doing her best to crawl up his body and lick his face, which makes Bruce smile more genuinely than Natasha has ever see him do before. "I had to leave him behind, you know, because." He shrugs, knowing that Natasha's seen the file on his exit from Brazil.

"Your neighbor took him in," Natasha offers, and Bruce actually takes his eyes off the puppy and looks up at her. Natasha shrugs; she likes dogs, better than she likes most people, so after she read the file she followed up.

"Natasha," Bruce says slowly, earnestly. "Thank you."

"You're welcome," Natasha says, glad that it wasn't a ridiculous idea after all. She's not good at gift-giving, or interacting with people in general when she's not undercover and working them for their secrets, so this feels like a victory. "What will you name her?"

Bruce smiles. "Well, if she's going to be the Hulk's therapy dog, I think we should let him name her, don't you?"

-

"Oh my god. I can't believe it. It's too good. He seriously named her Smash?" Tony asks. Natasha nods, reaching for more noodles. "Huh. Actually, I guess that's kind of sweet, he named her after his favourite thing."

"You should've seen it," Natasha says. "She didn't even seem to care when Bruce hulked out, just took one sniff of him and then bounded around like it was playtime. And he immediately sat down and let her climb all over him, just like the kittens. I said, Hulk, what should her name be? And he stroked her little head all gentle and said, 'Smash!', like it was obvious." She takes a sip of her iced tea. "Of course, we're going to have to train her, but I don't think it'll be hard to convince her that when she sees Bruce going green she should snuggle him."

Tony points at her with his chopsticks. "You know, if the spying and the killing people career paths don't work out for you, this could be your thing," Tony offers. "You could train service dogs for superheroes. I can think of a few others who could use some mellowing out."

"It's an appealing retirement idea," Natasha agrees.

-

Smash ends up becoming kind of the team mascot; Bruce and Natasha take over her training, which is actually a fun thing for them to do together, since they both like rules and order and – as it turns out – dogs. Tony and Thor consistently ruin her training by feeding her scraps at the table and letting her jump up on them ("She is attempting to kiss me!" Thor bellowed, delighted, looking down at Smash, who was leaping valiantly upwards trying to lick his face. "You must grow still further, little one!"), but Smash is smart and manages to learn the rules anyway. When she's old enough, Steve starts taking her out with him for his morning runs, and Clint starts her on agility courses, which makes her easily the most well-exercised dog in the state; and while Tony seems a little uncomfortable around her, like maybe he's never interacted with a dog before in his life, he does install extra hologram generators throughout the house so that JARVIS can play fetch with her. She's a little confused by the holographic tennis balls, but it doesn't stop her from chasing them, especially when JARVIS adds in the appropriate sound effects.

When Bruce starts to lose it, when he hurts himself or starts feeling frustrated or angry, he or Natasha just call, "Smash, green!" and Smash will immediately run to Bruce, lick his face, wag her tail and curl up in his lap, giving him an anchor, a warm soft body to hold onto.

Sometimes it stops Bruce from changing, sometimes it doesn't; when it doesn't, it's still okay, because Smash and the Hulk just go into the yard and chase one another until they're both tired out.

"He really loves her," Bruce says to Natasha, one night, while they're sitting on the couch with Smash between them, watching old movies and not doing much of anything. "The Hulk, I mean. He – it's amazing, to remember being him and feeling that. To know that this – this destructive being – that he's capable of that."

Natasha strokes Smash slowly, thoughtfully; she woofs softly and twitches in her sleep, chasing rabbits. Or maybe Hulks. 

"I'm glad," she says, eventually.

 

**3\. sparring**

"If our green companion wishes to smash things, why should we not give him the opportunity?" Thor says reasonably, and to his satisfaction the others nod thoughtfully. 

They're all gathered together, for once, having a team night with plenty of alcohol and several rounds, at Tony and Thor's insistence, of the game known as Twister; Thor is well pleased. Now they're sitting on the couches together, sprawled over one another comfortably. It is not unlike the ease he knew with Sif and the Warriors Three, after they had fought many battles together.

Bruce kicks Tony gently in the ankle. "You think you could design a workout room for the Hulk?" 

Tony's face lights up with a gleam that always reminds Thor, unsettlingly, of Loki; it's the same spark of ideas running hot and fast behind his eyes, perhaps too fast to be easily contained.

"You know, I bet – hmmm," Tony says. "Something flexible, with a lot of give – something he couldn't get purchase on, that would take blows without breaking."

Bruce points at him, obviously liking the idea. "I've never met a solid object I couldn't tear through," he says mildly. "So something yielding might be a good idea."

Thor listens with satisfaction as they work out the details, and waits with patience while they construct it, helping with any heavy lifting they demand of him. When it's ready, he and Bruce try it out together.

"It is – bouncy!" Thor says, surprised. He can spring up and down on the floor, and the walls and ceiling are made of the same material, that absorbs the shock of a blow and pushes him back towards the center of the room. It is like being in the center of a hollow rubber ball, but huge; there is more than enough space for Thor to fly in here, if he brings his hammer, and for the Hulk to leap to his heart's content. It won't stop him if he becomes determined to tear it apart, but it should absorb incidental blows from their sparring far better than a more traditionally constructed space.

"Yeah, it's fun, right? Tony says we should have parties down here, but I'm not sure I'd want to get drunk and then not be able to stop bouncing."

Thor nods sympathetically; humans are terrible at holding their liquor. And he himself would not enjoy the results of someone vomiting on the bouncy floor. 

"Shall we break it in?"

Bruce nods and presses delicately on the wall next to the door, which is covered in the same springy material. A compartment opens up, and Bruce undresses slowly, placing his clothing with care into the drawer. He's completely unselfconscious, which Thor always finds refreshing; too many people on Midgard have too many qualms about nakedness. Once the compartment is closed and the room is again uniformly soft, he looks at Thor.

"Ready?"

Thor nods. He likes this part, Bruce's willing submersion of himself into his warrior counterpart, and he watches with fascination as Bruce's body shifts and changes, becoming the only person on the planet who can consistently best Thor in combat.

The bout is – satisfying. They both adapt quickly to moving on the strange material, and by the end of it they are breathing hard, exchanging blow for endless blow and both crying out with the joy of the fight.

Bruce had been worried that the Hulk would not understand the difference between a play fight and a real fight, but Thor had been unconcerned, and his trust is repaid; when he starts to get tired and sits down for a moment, the Hulk sits beside him.

"We are taking a break," Thor says clearly, just in case. The Hulk grunts.

"NOT MY ENEMY," he replies, the first words Thor ever said to him. Thor pats his arm.

"Just so."

It's not always practical as a strategy for tiring out an unexpected Hulk, since they can't always get him to the practice room and Thor's not always available to spar with him, but as time passes it becomes an end in itself, rather than simply a solution to a problem, and Bruce starts suggesting that they spar on days he's feeling twitchy or anxious.

"Sometimes it's better to just let him out and let him do his thing," he says, shrugging.

Thor knows the feeling well, and agrees.

 

**4\. science**

There are several stimuli that will inevitably bring the Hulk to the fore, including but not limited to pain, fear, and impending battle; give the Hulk something to smash and he will want to smash it. Smashing is his favourite thing; smashing is relevant to his interests. He cannot resist smashing. 

It stands to reason, therefore, that there are stimuli that will, similarly, bring Bruce to the fore, things relevant to his interests – but not to the Hulk's – that he can't resist.

Tony just has to figure out what those things are. He thinks, after months as Bruce's lab partner, that he has a pretty good idea.

He tests his hypothesis one afternoon when Bruce has a tiny little accident in the lab. Really, given Bruce's standards of comparison, all lab accidents after his first big one are pretty much tiny, but this one really is inconsequential, just a slightly blown up workbench and some burned fingers. He's going rapidly green, though, so Tony doesn't waste any time, just vaults the bench between them and slides up next to Bruce, taking his arm.

"Hey, hey buddy," he says, talking as fast as he can. "Have I showed you the blueprints yet for the new Iron Man suit?" Tony hasn't, despite Bruce's near-constant wheedling; he doesn't like showing people his designs before they're finished. He's willing to make an exception in this case, though.

It gets his attention, anyway; the half-Hulk half-Bruce in front of him turns immediately to look at him, breath coming fast, and meets his gaze.

"I've redesigned the repulsors significantly," Tony offers. "I've used gallium arsenide semiconductor crystals to change the way the electrons are – are – " he pauses, shocked, because it's _actually working_ , the Hulk is _de-Hulking_ , and a second later Bruce is standing in front of him, shirtless and panting.

"You better not have just been saying that to get me to, uh."

"Bruce out?"

Bruce laughs weakly, doing an automatic check for his pants. They're mostly still on, unfortunately. You'd think Bruce would start wearing bike shorts under his clothes or something, but Tony's not going to be the one to suggest it.

"Yeah, to bruce out."

"I wasn't just saying it," Tony assures him. "Come on, come see the prototype repulsor I've built for the left gauntlet."

"I should get a shirt," Bruce protests.

"Science first. It's what's keeping you from turning into a monster, don't ruin it." It might be kind of fun to get Bruce's opinion on the gallium arsenide idea. And extra fun if it's a shirtless opinion.

-

Of course he has to tell the team all about it, because he _used science dirty talk_ to de-Hulk Bruce and he is immensely proud of himself. Bruce rolls his eyes at him and tries to blushingly pretend that he's not so super into hearing Tony talk about electrons that he stopped in the middle of becoming a rage monster to listen to him, but Tony knows the score.

"No dogs, no obstacle courses, no rubber rooms," he says smugly. "Just my brain."

He regrets all that bragging a week later, when the Avengers, Hulk included, find themselves in the field surrounded not by an alien army, but by swarms of fascinated children just off the schoolbuses.

"Stark," Steve says, "now is a good time for you to practice that de-Hulking strategy you're so proud of. I don't want Banner to accidentally step on a bunch of schoolchildren."

Tony obviously doesn't want that either, but as the children approach at what must be mach speeds he cannot remember a single scientific thing that he has ever learned in his life, much less something that could entice a Bruce out of a riled-up Hulk. His faceplate and helmet retract and he stares at the Hulk's big green back, trying to think of something.

"Uh," he says intelligently.

"Tony!" Natasha hisses. "Now!" She kicks him in the shinplate, which clangs dully but makes her point.

"Um, hey, uh, the Hulk," Tony tries, "did I ever tell you about the time I built a particle accelerator in my garage?" 

The Hulk turns on him, then throws his head back and writhes, looking a lot like Bruce when Bruce is trying to resist the change. It takes about three seconds flat and then Tony's smugness is justified again and the schoolchildren will be saved, hurrah.

"Um, I'm not sure this is actually _more_ appropriate for the kiddies," Tony suggests, because this time Bruce's pants did not survive the journey. 

"Form a circle," Steve instructs. "Barton, the emergency pants." Clint grumbles but produces said pants so that Bruce can hide his nakedness from the innocents.

"You built a _what_ in a _what_?" Bruce demands crankily, hopping on one foot to pull on the second pants leg, falling against Thor twice before actually being able to zip himself up. "Did you make that up?"

"Nope," Tony says cheerily, as the kids reach their little huddle, clambering for autographs. 

"You'd better have diagrams," Bruce grouses. Laughing, Tony slings an arm around his shoulders and smacks a wet kiss on his temple.

"I love it when you turn into a tiny pink science monster."

 

**5\. sex**

Bruce has never hulked out during a team orgy before, but Steve figures there's a first time for everything.

They started having team orgies pretty early on, mostly because Natasha having sex with Steve, and Steve having sex with Thor, and Tony having sex with Natasha, and Natasha having sex with Bruce, and Bruce having sex with Tony, and Tony having sex with Thor, and Thor having sex with Clint, and Clint having sex with Natasha, and Tony watching while Bruce had sex with Natasha and Clint, and so on, just wasn't very efficient, and led to the occasional misunderstanding and scheduling nightmare.

They'd all asked Bruce about the hulking-out-during-sex thing, but Bruce had just smiled a little smile and said he had that part of it pretty much under control, and they'd all nodded and gone on their merry orgiastic way; there was no one who was more cautious about the Hulk than Bruce, after all. They had ten or twelve team orgies under their belts by now, and that in addition to all the one-on-one sex made them feel that Bruce wasn't going to turn into a monster and squish them all in the middle of it, which was nice.

There's not even anything specific about this orgy – no one accidentally knees Bruce in the groin, or holds him down, or pulls his hair, and, Steve reflects, Bruce likes having his hair pulled anyway. One minute Tony is going down on Natasha and getting fucked by Steve while Bruce and Clint are having themselves a Thor sandwich (Bruce sucking, Clint fucking, Thor shooting little sparks from his fingers) and the next minute there's something of an elephant in the room.

Thor, superhuman resilience and ancient warrior's courage aside, pulls out of the Hulk's mouth so fast that it's like one of those Wile E. Coyote cartoons; Steve swears he can see a little puff of smoke where Thor's dick used to be. 

"Um," Natasha says, lifting her head from the pillows. "Who invited the green guy?"

"Well," Clint says, "he is an Avenger. Seems kind of wrong to leave him out."

The Hulk, for his part, is looking around in confusion, but it doesn't escape any of them that he's as hard as Bruce was before he changed. But a lot bigger. Tony eyes the Hulk's cock speculatively.

"I bet I could get that in my ass," he says, and Steve, who had kept thrusting mostly out of momentum, laughs so hard that he stops fucking him.

"Of course that's your first thought," Steve gasps against his back.

"Not, like, safety," Clint observes. Despite what he's saying, he's already got a hand on the Hulk's knee, stroking it steadily like he does when he's putting the Hulk to sleep. Cautiously, Thor moves back towards him, gripping a big green shoulder reassuringly. The Hulk shifts, and the enormous orgy bed, which Tony had specially designed and which is rated to hold twelve people, groans ominously under the weight of five superheroes and one Hulk.

"No, no, I really could – Rogers, come on, get out of me for a second, I want to try – "

Steve huffs out an annoyed breath, but pulls out, tossing away the condom.

"You're not putting that in your ass, Tony," Natasha says quellingly. "Do you know how much PSI of pressure the Hulk exerts?"

"Yeah, but – "

" _I_ shall put his cock in my ass," Thor breaks in. "I think it will be safer."

"We could just give him a handjob," Clint offers. "Or, uh, handsjob." He shifts to get two hands on the Hulk's cock and starts stroking up and down, hard and fast. "You like that, big guy?"

The Hulk groans, the sound of it rumbling through the room. "YES," he says, and writhes against the bed. They're all quiet for a second; there's something undeniably powerful about the scene, the Hulk twisting in passion, all that strength and power focused uncharacteristically inward.

"Yeah, this could work," Natasha says slowly, and Tony nods. They all shift positions to surround the Hulk: Tony and Natasha on his right, Clint and Thor on his left, Steve crawling up between his legs.

"Call it, Cap," Tony quips, and Steve grins. 

"Everyone do whatever the heck they want," Steve says, because that's his brand-new twenty-first century philosophy regarding sex and he likes saying it. "Hulk, be careful not to squeeze or push anyone, okay?"

The Hulk's legs spread around Steve, power quivering in his thighs. He raises one big hand and runs it carefully over Steve's chest.

"SOFT. SQUISHY." It's as close as the Hulk gets to a joke.

"Yes, we are," Steve agrees. "We're gonna make you feel really good, buddy, do you want us to do that?"

A grunt of assent.

"I think you'd know if he didn't," Natasha points out reasonably. Then she and Clint speak in unison: "You never do anything at the back end of a horse that he doesn't want you to do," and both start snickering. Steve is afraid to ask who they're quoting.

The Hulk starts to shift again, and Steve puts a hand on his belly to get his attention. "Don't move, fella," he says. "We'll move around you." The Hulk seems to understand, as he stays still after that.

"Can someone maybe tag in for me here?" Clint says. He's been working the Hulk's cock pretty hard this whole time, and he's flushed and sweating.

"I would be _happy_ to – " Tony tries, before Natasha and Steve interrupt him with a simultaneous "No!"

"Here, let me," Steve says, and Clint falls down gratefully against the bed and starts breathing really hard. Steve takes over, and it really is quite a workout; the Hulk's skin is tough, and it takes a lot of squeezing to feel like you're having any impact.

Meanwhile Tony has consoled himself by draping himself over the Hulk's shoulder and chewing enthusiastically at a nipple; Natasha is riding one giant green finger against her clit; and Thor – 

Thor is squeezing hard at the Hulk's hip, and he looks. Well. Hungry.

"Thor," Steve says, and it takes Thor a minute to stop gazing at the Hulk's body and meet his eyes. "Did you mean what you said?"

"Yes," Thor says, immediately, fervently. "I would – I wish to – please. Yes." Steve has never heard Thor stutter before, and his eyebrows go up.

"Wow," Tony says, pulling off and looking up at them. "Let's make that happen." The nice thing about Tony is that he'll back off when he sees that someone else needs something more than he does, and it's clear that he recognizes and respects the impulse to be fucked by something bigger than you. 

"Oh, oh, oh," Natasha is saying, soft and quiet like all her sex noises. Steve glances over and sees that the Hulk is slowly, carefully, crooking his finger so that it begins to push inside her; Natasha is rocking against it, lowering herself down to take a little more, inch by inch. 

"That's good," Steve says to the Hulk, and rewards him with tighter, faster pressure on his dick. Steve's a living legend supersoldier and all, but his wrists are starting to get a little sore. He thinks about his own endurance, which has led more than one of his teammates to yell at him to just come already; he wonders what kind of stamina the Hulk might have. "That's really good, that's just right." 

The Hulk thrusts up against Steve's hands, and Steve almost loses his grip and his balance but manages to hold on. 

"LIKE THIS," he says, watching the place where his finger goes into Natasha's body. "MORE."

Tony kneels up behind Natasha, plasters himself to her back. "Bet you don't mind all that pressure now," he whispers in her ear, and gets a hand around her body to rub her clit. Steve shivers; there's something about the two of them, the heat between them, that always gets to him.

"Shut up, Stark," Natasha grits out. Then she appears to consider something. "And maybe fuck me."

"Really?" Tony looks amazed. "Which hole?"

"Thor, take over for me here," Steve says, and Thor steps in. Steve takes the opportunity to find a couple of tubes of lube among the sheets.

"My ass," Natasha says. "Fuck my ass, come on – "

Steve tosses one of the tubes at Tony, who catches it almost without looking, and turns to Thor with the other. 

"I'm going to get you ready, and then the Hulk's gonna fuck you," he says. Thor closes his eyes and his breathing picks up to match the frantic pace he's setting on the Hulk's cock. Steve gets his fingers slick and pushes into Thor's ass at about the same time Tony, on the other side of the Hulk, starts fucking Natasha, so that Thor and Tasha both groan at the same time.

"Nice," Clint says appreciatively, sitting up again, obviously having caught his breath. He's got a hand on his cock and his eyes are darting back and forth between Natasha, Tony, and Thor, taking in the whole scene.

"You doing okay there, Clint?" Steve asks, working Thor harder, three fingers now.

"Just fine, Cap," Clint grins. 

"Then why not come on over here and fuck me?" Natasha fucked him earlier with her strap-on, so he's already loose and wet and ready for it, and watching Natasha getting taken from both sides at once is making him feel empty and jealous.

"Yessir!" Clint rolls off the edge of the bed and comes around behind Steve. He grabs a condom from one of the jars and soon he's kneeling up behind Steve, who's kneeling up behind Thor.

"You want me to fuck you a little?" Steve asks Thor, breathless as Clint starts to push into him. "Get you ready for the main event?"

Thor, still jerking the Hulk in long steady pulls, nods his assent. "Be quick," he grits out. 

Steve lines himself up and fucks him in one long slow stroke. Thor clenches around him – the guy has muscles _everywhere_ \- and Steve, who was pretty close to coming before Bruce hulked out, groans and goes faster. The dual sensation of fucking and being fucked sets off sparking waves of pleasure throughout his body.

"Yeah," he breathes, tensing his grip on Thor's shoulder. He loves how he doesn't have to hold back with Thor, how Thor likes it when Steve goes as rough as he can.

"That is a very pretty little daisy chain," Tony puffs out, before groaning as Natasha slams back onto him. She's working herself back and forth hard and fast now, her body stretched and open. As Steve watches the Hulk turns his head just slightly and licks a rough stripe up her thigh, which launches Natasha into a very noisy, and very long, orgasm.

"Jesus, Tasha," Tony says, still fucking her. "What the fuck."

"Keep going, keep going," Natasha says, sounding slurred. "I can go again, c'mon."

Tony doesn't have a smart answer for that, just bends to rest his forehead on her shoulder and bite at her skin as he picks up the pace.

"Thor," Steve says, "I'm going to – "

"Yes, yes, do it," Thor growls, and Steve buries himself as deep as he can and comes and comes and comes into Thor's ass, seeing stars behind his eyes.

When he pulls out Thor is already scrambling up the Hulk's body, bracing a big hand on his chest and slowly, slowly, sinking down on the Hulk's massive cock.

"You good to keep going?" Clint pants, still fucking Steve slow, still setting off those bright bursts of sensation on every thrust.

"Yeah, yeah, it's fine, great," Steve mumbles, and Clint laughs behind him and starts giving it to him a little harder. "Ungh," Steve says, and lets his head drop down between his arms.

He's apparently missing a show, however, as a moment later Natasha groans again and says, "Fuck, Thor, that's beautiful."

Steve looks up and sees Thor riding the Hulk hard and fast; so hard, in fact, that when they meet on each thrust it displaces the air around them. The Hulk is actually moving now, rocking himself up into Thor's body, and the care with which he does it makes Steve ache a little, inside. They should've been inviting the Hulk to these orgies all along.

"GOOD," the Hulk rumbles, and Thor lets out a long, unselfconscious moan. "YES. HARDER."

"F-fuck," Thor stutters, a word he doesn't say very often. He pushes harder with his thighs, levering himself up and down, sweat trickling down his back.

"Yeah, yeah, oh god, Nat, I'm going to come – " Tony says, and Natasha grits her teeth and grinds down on the Hulk's fingers and comes again, like she was just waiting for him. Tony gets in another one or two sloppy strokes and then groans, his hand still working Natasha's clit through her orgasm, and a few minutes later the two of them are spread-eagled on the far side of the bed, gorgeous and gleaming and breathing hard.

"GOOD." It's not clear whether the Hulk is making a statement or asking a question, but it is clearly directed at Natasha, who pulls herself down the bed a few inches on her elbows and leans over the Hulk's broad face.

"Yeah, it was," she says simply, and kisses him on the corner of his mouth.

"MWAH," the Hulk says, something that Tony and Clint must've taught him, because they both burst out laughing simultaneously. Behind Steve Clint's thrusts start to get rough and sloppy, because laughing always brings him to the edge, and a moment later he buries himself deep in Steve's ass and holds there, gripping Steve's hips almost hard enough to hurt.

"God, Steve," Clint says, rolling him over and climbing on top of him, wet and sticky, for a deep, slow kiss. Steve wraps his arms around Clint's shoulders and gives as good as he gets.

When they break apart they both turn to look at Thor and the Hulk, whose fucking is now a serious threat to the structural integrity of the bed. Steve meets Tony's eyes and waggles his eyebrows, which makes Tony grin. The four of them all lie propped up on their sides, cooling down and watching the show.

"Yes, yes, yes," Thor is grunting, through clenched teeth, "yes, that's – " and it's so rough, and so violent, that it seems like it can never end, like the two of them are locked in an endless sparring match, matching one another blow for blow. When it finally does end, it's pretty much the noisiest thing Steve's ever heard, even in a world now full of noise: Thor screaming and throwing his head back and gazing up at the ceiling as if expecting lightning to crash down on him, the Hulk roaring as loud as he can and thrashing and tearing the mattress, both of them coming all over the bed for what seems like a long time.

When it's over, Thor rolls off of the Hulk and onto his back on the bed, but it takes him a moment or two to be able to unfold his legs and lie flat; Steve is definitely impressed, and a little curious to try it himself.

"Ahhhhhhhhbbbbbbbb," Thor says. Steve pats his leg.

"Still want to get fucked by that?" Steve asks Tony, and Tony smiles smugly.

"Are you kidding? Now I _really_ want to get fucked by that," Tony replies.

"Maybe Steve can go next," Natasha mutters into the sheets. She's face-down with her lips mashed against the bed. "If he doesn't get any horrible ruptures, then maybe you and me and Clint can try."

"Charming," Steve sighs.

Between them, the Hulk sighs too, and it carries a lot more force than Steve's. "TIRED," he says. "SLEEP. BRUCE."

And before anyone can do more than raise an eyebrow the Hulk is shrinking down, getting less and less green, fading until he's just their mild-mannered scientist again.

Bruce blinks and sits up on his elbows. "Hi," he says slowly. Tony waves at him. "I missed the orgasms, didn't I?"

"Yup," Steve says, squeezing his ankle for comfort. "But it's okay, we can always have more later."

"Speak for yourself," Natasha mutters, face still mushed into the mattress.

"I feel pretty tired, actually," Bruce says. "Did you guys – oh, uck, is this Hulk semen all over me?"

"It's pretty much Hulk semen all over everyone," Tony chirps. "The stuff has velocity."

"Huh." Bruce looks around. "And I didn't hurt anyone?" 

"The Hulk is a very considerate lover," Thor says dreamily.

"Though I might have carpal tunnel now," Clint complains.

Steve grins at Bruce, then around at the others. "Nicely done, team," he says.

"Yeah," Bruce says, looking just a little sheepish. "Thanks, guys."

**Author's Note:**

> I stole the concept of emergency pants from some_stars' delightful story [Emergency Pants](http://some-stars.dreamwidth.org/2178669.html). It is the greatest and you should read it, especially if you like emergency pants?

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Five Ways to Get In Touch with Your Inner Mild-Mannered Scientist [PODFIC]](https://archiveofourown.org/works/500057) by [EasyTangent](https://archiveofourown.org/users/EasyTangent/pseuds/EasyTangent), [Opalsong](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Opalsong/pseuds/Opalsong)




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